Invisible Spirit
by Confuse Your Muse
Summary: Spot is the kid everyone ignores. Until he get's a new look, and attracts the attention of a certain football captain. Can he make it in this school now that everyone knows who the guy in black is, who just so happens to be on the cheerleading squad?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own Spot or any other character you recognize from the movie Newsies. Disney owns it all, I wish I owned one of them, but alas. So here's my story, that I own nothing of but the plot.

Warning: Contains some mild slash, if you don't like it, don't read it. All flames will be used to burn marshmallows with so I can make smores.

Invisible Spirit

Chapter 1: Spot

_I guess I should tell you a little about myself since you're going to be reading about my life shortly. My name is Gabriel Patrick Conlon, but my friends call me Spot. That is, if I **had** any friends. It's not easy for me to make friends, people see me as a cold-hearted bitch. Which isn't true, just so you know. I moved into this school system back in eighth grade, but no one knows who I am, and that's sad since I'm in my senior year of school. I lived in Brooklyn and was actually pretty popular at my old school, mostly because the other kids were afraid of me, but that's changed here. _

_I'm not that great looking, or at least I don't think I do. I've also got a valid excuse for it as well: no one likes me! I've got boring light-brown hair and blue eyes and I'm short. This is the part that bugs me, I haven't gotten my growth spurt and at the rate I'm going, I don't think I'll ever get one. I'm invisible at my school because I'm not in any sports or clubs. I don't care enough about them to do it. But my brother, who knows my biggest secret of all, told me to join one so I did. The activity: cheerleading. Now don't laugh, I'm really good. I'm better than a lot of the girls, and I don't have to wear a skirt. There's two other guys on the squad, Dutchy and Pie Eater. The girls gave us nicknames when we joined, I don't know why, but that's just what they do. They're usually fairly nice to us because if they piss us off we could just drop them one day, and they know it. _

_So that big secret I told you my brother knows, there's a reason that he's the only one that knows. It's kinda obvious now that I told you what I do in school; I'm bisexual. Yes, that means I like girls and guys. So sue me. _

_Anyways, I went through four years of school here without any friends and no one noticing me. I ate lunch in the art room, and spent all my free time in the band room, I can play the drum set and guitar pretty good now. But now that I'm a senior I came back looking different. I had glasses for a while, which was probably a reason no one noticed me so I got contacts for cheering. I also cut my hair and now I've got an emo-swoop, and I dyed part of my hair black and bleached part of it to almost a white. I pierced my ears and I'm gauging them out, I'm at 10 right now, but I just started. I also got my tongue pierced, but none of the teachers know yet, thank God, they'd make me take it out. I'm still short, but there's nothing I can do about that. I talked my mom into letting me get a whole new wardrobe and now I look a lot better, if I do say so myself. All my clothes fit me really well and most of them are dark colors that make me look a little taller, they also make me look even thinner than I am. Can I help it if I have a high metabolism and only weigh about 120 pounds?_

_So it's almost the end of September and I've been getting looks from people, it's like being the new guy all over again but this time they turn and look a second time instead of walking right by me. The other cheerleaders love the new look, they say I have an 'edge' now that I didn't have before. Which means I stand out and in the words of Sarah Jacobs "We have a goth on the squad now," I think she's getting used to it now, even though she tripped over my boots yesterday. We've got practice in the gym now which is where I'll stop and let you have a look into my life. _


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't own Spot or any other character you recognize from the movie Newsies. Disney owns it all, I wish I owned one of them, but alas. So here's my story, that I own nothing of but the plot.

Warning: Contains some mild slash, if you don't like it, don't read it. All flames will be used to cook marshmallows with so I can make smores.

Note:I'm going to change from Spots POV to Jacks POV throughout this so don't get too confuzzled.. _ Italicized_ words indicate thought.

This chapter is dedicated to my first reviewer: Rustie73. You're my hero.

Chapter 2

Spot

The music was echoing though the gym, a mix of two songs I couldn't recognize. Practice was almost over for the day and I was starting to zone out. Ms. Stacey was working with the girls on their part of the dance routine we would be doing at contests and the three of us had nothing to do. Pie and Dutchy were listening to Pie's iPod so I had nothing to do and no one to talk to.

It's after school so there's no one to bother in the hallways because the only other people here are the janitors and the football players but the later of the two is outside which does me no good._ I'm just sitting here_, _this is pointless._ I could be doing something much more productive; like sleeping.

The door to the side of the gym opened, the one by the guys locker room. Maybe it could be someone to look at. It was the football players. The hot sweaty and shirtless football players. The last one to enter was the Quarterback himself: Jack 'Cowboy' Kelly, whom I'm happy to announce had his shirt off like the rest of the team, his pads slung over one strong shoulder. Unfortunately, at the same time I noticed, so did Sarah Jacobs, the girl wanted to get her claws all over MY man. That was so not going to happen – _or maybe it will. _

Ms. Stacey let us go after we did our routine once more, meaning Dutchy, Pie and I had to get up. It also meant that I got to do a back handspring in front of Jack. _Take that, Sarah Jacobs. You stupid slut, _ I thought to myself as I nailed my handspring and looked out of the corner of my eye and saw Jack do a double take. I felt like doing a victory dance, but restrained myself, settling for a smirk instead. I headed down to the locker room and headed for my bag in the corner.

I slid my shirt off and replaced it with the black fitted-T I had worn to school that. It didn't take me long to notice someone behind me, I could feel their eyes burning into my back. I turned around, perplexed, no one ever, I repeat EVER talked to me voluntarily at school. So you see, this was completely new to me. I turned around and suppressed the urge roll my eyes. It was Racetrack Higgins, the only thing he ever wanted from people was money.

"I don't have any money, Higgins," I said as I continued changing back into my school clothes.

"I don't want your money. I just wanted to know where you learned how to do that jump thing," Race said, sounding a little embarrassed talking to me in public, surrounded by other football players.

"It's a natural talent, I guess," I replied, still not sure exactly what he wanted because the one thing I learned since eighth grade was that Racetrack always wanted _something_.

"Nice job then. I like your new look by the way, Spot," he said, walking away.

To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. Not only did I get complimented twice – TWICE – but Racetrack knew my name. Not that I like him like that, but I didn't know that anyone knew my name, let alone any of the jocks. The only one's that do know my name are the rest of the varsity cheerleaders. I stood there, trying not let my shock be seen on my face so I finished getting dressed quickly and re-spiked my hair before grabbing my gym bag and my trench coat and leaving the locker room.

I didn't get too far before I felt a hand on my arm. _What's with people today? I'm not the new kid anymore._ I turned around and there was Jack Kelly. I nearly died, no seriously. He's got these gorgeous honey brown eyes and right now they were look right at me.

Jack

I walked through the door leading into the gym and heard the cheerleaders practicing, just like they did every day. But today, I was screwed, I wasn't concentrating on practice because I was worried about my Government test and how I had no ride home because I got my car rear-ended this morning. Coach glared at me, he was really good at guilt trips when he wanted to be, but usually he was pretty understanding.

I stopped my worrying for a few minutes when I saw Spot, he lived next door to me, maybe he could take me home, seeing as how none of the other guys could give me a lift. _But then again I've never exactly given him the time of day. _Then Spot did some kind of jump backwards, I don't know what it's called, but he nailed it, and damn did he look good doing it. I know I shouldn't be thinking that, but it's true. He's a lot better than Sarah, or Harpy as I like to call her.

He headed down to the locker room after he had finished his routine, I watched the entire thing. One of the other guys, David, was watching too. "You're not watching my sister, are you Kelly?" He asked, this was something of a joke between us. After our failed mishap sophomore year, I can't stand the girl anymore. She's crazy.

So I finished getting dressed and followed Spot out of the locker room and into the parking lot. I grabbed his arm and he stopped right away and turned around.

Why hadn't I noticed this guy before? He's got gorgeous eyes and a nice body – if only a little skinny – and if I'm not mistaken, he's got his tongue pierced. I saw it when he and Race were talking. His eyes widened when they locked with mine. I think he's shocked that I would talk to him.

"Spot, do you think you could take me home? It's okay if you can't, but none of the other guys said they had time, and I don't have a car," I said, hardly taking a breath. I don't know why I'm so nervous all of a sudden, but I am.

"Yeah," he said, looking suspicious. "I can take you home, I'm gonna get something to eat before, do you have any cash with you?" He's actually taking me home.

Wait, money. Shit. I spent all my money on fees that I owed for this semester. "No," I said quietly.

"That's okay, I'll get you something, as long as you don't eat more than $30 worth of food," he answered, leading the way to his car. "Is there anywhere special you want to eat?" Spot asked me as he unlocked the door to his car.

"Um," I thought for a second. "Do you like pizza?"

"Duh," he said, pushing the lock on his door, unlocking mine. "Pizza Hut then I'm guessing."

I nodded and got in the car. I got in and put my bag in the back of his car where Spot had just put his own. He turned on his car and my ears were met with the very loud sounds of Disturbed through his speakers from the CD player. He turned it down and looked at me apologetically. "Sorry about that," he said, looking rather sheepish. "I'm always alone in the car and I like listening to my music really loud."

I smiled over at him and turned the music back up and began singing along with the CD. "People can no longer cover their eyes. If this disturbs you then walk away You will remember the night you were struck by the sight of ten thousand fists in the air ." I broke off and Spot looked at me again, taking his eyes off the road for a second.

He turned the player down so that we could both hear it and talk at the same time. "I'm guessing you like Disturbed too," he said. I could barely hear him over the music.

"Yeah, I even saw them live," I could tell he was nervous, he probably never talked to someone this long.

"Me too, and I've got their autograph too, I got to meet them backstage the last time they were in town."

I looked over at him. "No way. Bastard, I hate you. I would've loved to have done that. You're lucky." He smiled. He's got a nice smile. I decided to tell him this the boy looked like he could do with a self-esteem booster. "You've got a nice smile, you should do it more often, your eyes light up."

There was a faint blush on his cheeks, bringing out his the kohl around his eyes. We were silent the rest of the short ride to Pizza Hut.

Spot

We walked into Pizza Hut and sat down in a booth in the back. "What kind of pizza do you want?" I asked him as a waitress came and took our drink orders, I got my Mountain Dew and Jack got a Pepsi.

"I love banana peppers on pizza but I don't know anyone else that does." I had to smile again. Jack and I were a lot more alike that I had ever hoped to believe.

"Sounds good, I hate olives though," I added. Jack nodded his head in agreement.

We ordered and sat back munching on breadsticks the waitress had brought out. "So," he began. He was trying to start a conversation, I don't think he likes the awkward silence anymore than I do. "How come I never see you in school?"

"I'm only in one of you're classes," I told him. "I sit in the back. Other than that, I'm invisible," I said quietly. I don't like talking about my anti-social behaviors. I can't help it that no one seems to like me.

"Why do you think you're invisible? You're a nice guy, you've got a great smile and you've got good taste in music," Jack answered. "I know I haven't talked to you much -" _at all_ I thought to myself. "- but you seem to be a pretty cool guy. I love your new look, it's the dark mysterious thing. It really works for you," he said at he reached across the table and pushed my emo swoop out of my eyes.

I felt a jolt when his fingers brushed against my skin and suppressed a small gasp. "So tell me about yourself, Spot Conlon. What's your real name?"

"I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you," I answered. He gave me a look and I grinned. "Gabe," I said.

"Short for Gabriel I assume."

I glared at him.

"It's better than my real name: Francis." I smiled. I already knew that, but I didn't tell him. "So what's your favorite class?"

I thought for a minute. "AP English, no one would look at me and say 'that kid likes to read' but I love it." It was also the only class that I had with Jack, but I didn't tell him that either, he doesn't need to know that I think he's the hottest guy at our school. "What about yours?" I asked him, trying to learn about him as he learned about me.

"Film Studies. I like watching movies, we're doing movies about Comics right now. Have you ever seen The Crow?" I nodded. "I love it. I don't know where this movie has been all my life. Besides, Brandon Lee is fucking hot."

I nearly choked on my Mountain Dew. _Is it possible? He likes guys too?_ I hated to tell him but I had to. "Brandon Lee died during the making of that movie."

Have you ever seen a little kids face when he finds out that his puppy got hit on the road? Well that was the look Jack had on his face when I told him that. His shoulders slumped and he looked over at me with those big brown eyes and I almost cried – almost.

"Here you go boys," our waitress said as she lowered our pizza onto the table and setting two plates on the table, one in front of each of us. "Can I get you two anything else?"

We were both okay. We ate in silence for the most part, every once in a while we would ask each other a question but for the most part, we were just content to sit with each other. The bill came and I paid, leaving a tip on the table and followed Jack out to my car again.

"Thanks for the Pizza, Spot," he said, getting in the passenger seat. I wanted to say 'no problem' but he didn't give me a chance. "I'll pay you back for it somehow."

"It's fine, really," I said as we pulled out and over to Oleander Drive where both he and I live.

"No really, you gave me a ride home _and _bought me food. That earns you double points in my book," he said turning to face me as we sat in his driveway. "Come on in and we'll play video games or watch a movie or something."

He was almost begging me, and with that pout I couldn't say no, so I didn't. "Sure, my mom won't be home until eleven so she'll never know. Besides, she can see my car from our driveway anyway."

His eyes lit up and we both got out and he grabbed his bag out of my back seat. "Mom, I'm home," Jack called as we both were in the house. I pulled my boots off and set them next to where Jack had set his shoes. His house was a lot bigger than mine and looked like it belonged in France or something. Jack looked over at me and ushered me into his living room where he had a plasma screen TV.

Jack

Now before anyone gets any ideas about me, I'm not gay. I don't even like guys that much. But there are two exceptions to this. One is dead and the other is Spot. Although he looks a lot like a girl, but I knew better, I'd seen him in the shower enough times to know that he's definitelya guy. I will admit that I might have the tiniest crush on him, but just look at him. He's got the greatest ass I've ever seen. And if I don't stop eyeing him like a predator he's gonna get freaked out.

We both settled on my couch on opposite ends so we could each have an arm rest. "What do you want to watch?" I asked as I got up and kneeled down to where all the DVDs were below the TV. Spot followed and leaned over my shoulder and looked at my collection. I could feel the heat radiating off his thin body. He reached one arm over my shoulder and pulled out Red Eye.

"I've never seen this before, is it any good?" He asked, reading over the back cover.

"It's pretty good, kinda intense, but good." He seemed to take my word for it and he handed me the box. He sat back down, watching me put the DVD in, I could feel his eyes on my back, then traveling lower. "Like what you see?" I asked as I turned to face him.

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. There was a light blush under his high cheekbones. I smirked inwardly, and knew I had him trapped. I'm not going to take advantage of him or anything like that I just want to see if he likes guys – maybe we could hook up.

His voice was amazingly steady even though I could see his hands shake slightly at his sides. "Maybe," he said evenly. "What's it to you?"

I can't believe we're having this conversation, I mean I don't really like guys, like I said; I just like Spot. But something was nagging me in the back of my mind. I pushed the play button and walked back over to the couch, sitting next to Spot on the couch. He seemed really tense, I wonder if he wasn't used to this close contact with another person or what was going on in his head. "Do you want some popcorn or something?" I asked, trying to let him loosen up a little bit.

"No, I'm okay," he said quietly, laying his head on the arm rest and watching the beginning of the movie. We sat in silence for a while until Spots cell phone rang. He sat up and took out his phone, looked at the number and answered it.

He answered in short one word replies and hung up after a minute or so. "Look, I've got to go home, it was fun hanging out with you, I'll see you later okay?"

I looked up and saw this scared look in his eye. "Is everything okay?" I asked him, worried for my new friend. _At least I hope we're friends_.

"I'm fine, I just need to get home," he said. "I'll see you later. Thanks for hanging out with me today."

And with that, Spot Conlon walked out of my house. I don't know why but I had a bad feeling about whatever had just conspired on the phone. The look in his eyes scared me, I wish I could help him but he won't seem to let me in yet. I'll have to talk to him tomorrow.

My mom walked into the living room "Where's your friend?"

"Spot?" I asked looking up. "He had to leave, someone called him and he rushed off. I hope nothings wrong."

"He seems like a nice boy, he thanked me for letting him stay over here for a while when he left. What's his name?"

"Gabe," I said. "He's one of the cheerleaders, he gave me a ride home after school. He lives next door and I've never talked to him until today. I've got a bad feeling, Mom. Something is going to happen, I just don't know what."

If only I would have known how right I was.

A/N part deux: I'm going to try to post at least one chapter a week, but it depends on what the teachers give me for homework. Senior year is mental, I've got this crazy project that takes all year to do but hopefully I'll be consistent with my updates. Hope you enjoyed.


	3. Chapter 3

Dislcaimer: I don't own Spot or any other character you recognize from the movie Newsies. Disney owns it all, I wish I owned one of them, but alas. So here's my story, that I own nothing of but the plot.

Warning: Contains some mild slash, if you don't like it, don't read it. All flames will be used to cook marshmallows with so I can make smores.

Note:I'm going to change from Spots POV to Jacks POV throughout this so don't get too confuzzled.. _ Italicized_ words indicate thought.

Thanks to all my reviewers, it makes my day to know people want to know what's going to happen next.

Chapter 3

Jack

I woke up later than usual today, which is bad because today happens to be Friday, it would look bad for the quarterback/captain of the football team to be late on game day. I took a quick shower and got ready in record time; then remembered I had no car. "Shit," I whispered as I dialed Davey's cell number.

"Jack?" David asked from where ever he was.

"Hey, Davey. Where are ya?" I asked, preying he wasn't too far away.

"I just pulled out of my driveway. Do you need a ride?" I could feel relief rushing through me, thank god for Davey.

"Yes please," I said as I pulled my shoes on, getting ready for him to pick me up.

"Okay, I'll see you in a few minutes then. You don't have to worry about Sarah either, she's getting a ride with Emily," Davey said. I smiled. It was the perfect day to be late for school.

Davey hung up the phone and I followed suit on my line. I was sitting on the couch again, watching the news; there had been a car accident last night around nine o'clock involving a man and woman who had been hit and killed by a drunk driver. I sighed, that was one of the reasons I don't like drinking, you do stupid shit when you're drunk.

I heard the sounds of David's car as he pulled in my driveway and I headed out the door, grabbing my bag on the way out. I opened the car door and put my bag on the floor in the back, I looked up and saw Spots car was gone, I hadn't even thought about asking him for a ride, but he wasn't there anyways, so it wouldn't have done me any good.

"Thanks for the ride, Davey," I said as I closed the door to his car. He waved off the thank you with a smile.

"No problem, Cowboy. We can't have you late for school today."

We stayed silent for the rest of the ride and arrived at school with enough time for us to put our jerseys on and head to first period. _I hate having Government first thing in the morning_.

My morning classes passed by slowly, as usual. I was looking forward to AP English, hoping to see Spot for the first time since he left in a hurry last night. I got to class just as the bell rang and Mr. Savage (the student teacher) looked up and shook his head. He was taking attendance, looking up every once in a while to see who was here and who wasn't.

"Okay," he started, getting up from his chair and began to talk about a new assignment they would have to do for Tuesday. I wasn't paying much attention, I was trying to see if Spot was here. I looked around in the back of the class, he wasn't there. _Where _is_ he?_ _I hope he's okay. _I was starting to get just a little nervous for my new friend.

Spot never showed up for school today, and his car wasn't in his driveway when Davey dropped me off after school. "I'll see you at five okay, Cowboy?" Davey said as he pulled out of my driveway. I waved and headed into the house to get something to eat and relax. Tonight was going to be a fairly easy game, the other team had only won three out of six games so far and we were undefeated. I wasn't going to let it go to our heads though, that's what happened last year; we got a little cocky, a little egotistical and we lost the playoff game.

But that doesn't matter now, I wanted to know where Spot went but I had no way of finding him, his phone number was unlisted and I didn't know his cell phone number. I was sitting on the couch watching _Underworld_ when mom came in the room, the paper in her hand.

"You said your friend Gabe lives next door?"

I found this to be an odd question, considering I had told her last night. "Yeah," I said, wondering where this was going.

"What's his last name?"

"Conlon," I said, now even more confused than I had been.

She looked at me and she had tears in her eyes. She didn't say a word, just handed me the newspaper. I read over the title, but didn't see anything of importance. But two sentences into the article I saw what she was so upset about. The people who were killed last night, the people who were on the news this morning – were Spot's parents.

I looked up at my mom, and couldn't imagine ever losing her. I opened my mouth, but couldn't say anything. I was at a loss for words. I don't know how long we sat there, the two of us, but then the doorbell rang. I got up and answered it. Davey was standing on my doorstep, tapping his foot impatiently. "I called you three times? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said as I grabbed my gym bag from where I had set it earlier and said bye to my mom who had followed me to the door. She looked sad for me and for Spot. I was worried about her; but I knew she'd be fine as long as she knew Spot would be. That's one thing about my mom, if she likes you, she'll worry herself sick about you.

I followed Davey to his car and got into the passenger seat (Sarah wouldn't have to be at school for another hour). I gave one look at Spots house and saw his car was back in it's place, but there were no lights on, _I wonder where he is_.

I was distracted during Coach's pep talk, not that I hadn't heard enough of them. I felt this weight on me, I wanted, _needed_ to talk to Spot, to make sure he was okay. He called himself invisible, and I was worried that now he wouldn't have anyone else to talk to. We all headed out to the field to our Fight Song and the cheers from the crowd and I lost myself in the game; thoughts and worries of Spot pushed to the back of my head. I knew he wouldn't be here tonight, there was no point looking.

Spot

Last night I felt the bottom of my stomach drop and now I just feel numb. The call last night was from a doctor at St. Joseph's downtown. My parents had died at the scene of a hit and run accident. I knew that it had happened, but it still feels surreal. I'm a teenager, I don't always get along with my parents, but they were all right. I'm an orphan now, I know I'm almost 18 but it still stings. I haven't cried yet, I don't think I can.

It hit me this morning; I've got no where to go. My closest relatives live back in Brooklyn and there's no way I could go back there; I wouldn't be able to survive there anymore. My parents lawyer said I could stay here and finish off the year and I could get some kind of child support. I've got a job at Spinners – a local CD shop in town – that would hold me over for a while. But there's one problem. I don't want to be alone, not in that house.

Which is why I'm heading over next door to Jack's house. I know he's not there, but his mother's car still is. She was really nice to me last night, at least I'll have someone to talk to. I rang the doorbell and she appeared at the door almost as if she had been expecting me. She opened the door and ushered me inside with no questions asked. I took my shoes off and set them in the same place I had last night and turned so I looked her in the eye. She had a look of a concerned mother, a woman who was worried about her own children, even though I wasn't related to her. She gave me a hug and led me to the couch that I had shared with Jack last night, the same couch that I had received the phone call from. "Can I get you anything honey?" She asked.

"I'm okay," I said quietly. I don't think I can eat anything just yet, and I don't want to try. She gently touched my shoulder and draped a blanket over me. I looked over at her, that was a mistake. She had tears in her eyes. _Please don't cry. I won't be able to take it if you do. _Thankfully, she didn't cry, just sat next to me for the next few hours. We watched the football highlights on TV after the game was over. Jack came home soon after and walked right past the living room and went to (what I'm guessing) his room. Ten minutes later he walked back into the room in a pair of pajama pants and saw me sitting there.

Mrs. Kelly got up and walked out of the room after congratulating her son for winning the game.

"Spot," he said quietly, walking closer to me. He sat down next to me and wrapped his strong arms around me. It felt good to be hugged by him. I settled into his embrace and listened to his heartbeat, letting it lull me into a light sleep.

I woke up some hours later and noticed I wasn't where I was when I had fallen asleep. In fact, I had never even seen this room before. Upon further investigation, I found myself – to be thinking like a Sherlock Holme's novel. It was Jack's room, which was obvious, considering he was also in there, his arm slung over my waist in a protective manner. This wasn't the time or the place to be thinking dirty thoughts, but I was a teenage guy and I did. I had slept with the quarterback. Although, nothing had happened I couldn't help but wonder how many people would kill to be where I was right now.

Jack woke up when I moved, I felt bad, waking him up early on a Saturday. But he looked up at me and smiled. He sat up and wrapped his arms around me again. Then I remembered why I was over here and not at my own house. It hit me like a ton of bricks, all at once. I shuddered, despite the heat from Jack's body. I don't cry, I'm not even sure I know how to anymore. But the tears came nonetheless. Before I knew it, my entire body was wracked with sobs, apparently I _did_ remember how to cry.

He just held me until I stopped, which to me felt like forever. It made me feel weak, crying in front of someone else. I learned at a young age, in Brooklyn, that you don't cry when you're sad or hurt, you just suck it up. But I couldn't anymore, not after this. He just held me next to him, comforting me like no one else had in a long time. I felt him pick me up and set me in his lap, gently rocking me in his arms.

I sighed and leaned back into his chest, resting against him. He gently kissed my forehead, brushing my emo swoop out of my face. "You've got eyeliner all down your face," he said, breaking the silence in the room. I reached up to wipe it off, but he did it for me, using _my_ shirt to wipe it off, but I didn't care – that much. "There you go, gorgeous once again, " he said. I knew he had to be lying. My eyes were probably red and my hair had to be messed up, not that I care about how I look, but it felt nice to hear someone say I looked good. "I'm so sorry, Spot."

I nodded, unable to say anything. "If there's anything I can do," he began, but I stopped him.

"You've already done a lot," I answered, snuggling closer to him. "I can't make it up to you even if I had the rest of my life. You have no idea what you've done for me since Friday."

I didn't want to tell him what I had planned on doing this weekend, even before my parents died, but now it's not even an option. I don't have to do that anymore. I've got someone who cares what happens to me, even if we'll never be anything more than friends, it feels good.

He didn't question what I said, and for that I was grateful, he just hugged me tighter. "That's what friends are for," he said, resting his cheek on the top of my head. He lightly ran his fingers down my arm, in a friendly gesture that went straight down. I grabbed his hand to stop the motion. "What?" He asked, looking me in the eye.

I didn't answer, but I could feel the blush on my cheek. This would definitely be the end of our friendship. Even if he _did_ think Brandon Lee was hot (because just face it, everyone with a pulse should think he's sex personified), there was no way he would be okay with me getting turned on by him running his fingers up my fucking arm.

He smirked. _Dammit. Not good._ "Why should I stop?" He asked, he was fucking enjoying this! He was teasing me on purpose!

"Because," I whined.

"Because why?"

"Dammit, Jack, you know why!" I can't believe him.

"It's fun though," he said, his breath on my neck. _Damn him to the deepest circles of hell – never mind._ His mouth was now at my neck, gently biting at the spot where my neck and shoulder met. I bit my lip to stop from moaning out loud. He was affecting me more than he knew. Thank god I had fallen asleep in jeans.

"Jack," I whispered. "Don't tease me, please."

He stopped and looked me in the eye. "Tell me you don't want this," he whispered. I couldn't and he knew it. He shifted ever so slightly and I knew he wanted this too.

"Jack."

"Yes?" He asked, leaning closer and capturing my lips with his. _I've died and gone to heaven, that's all there is to it. _

When we broke apart for air, I had forgotten what I was going to tell him, and it didn't seem to matter too much now. I sighed and leaned back into him, resting my head on his shoulder. I could have stayed like that forever, but I knew I couldn't. "I've got to make arrangements for my parents. I'm supposed to call my children's services agent at ten," I told him, but made no effort to release myself from his hug.

"It's only eight, babe," he pointed out, kissing my forehead again. "Do you want to go back to sleep and I'll wake you up then?"

"No, I just wanna sit here with you for a while. Is that okay?" I asked.

"That's fine," he said, laying down and pulling me with him. I was now half on him and half on the bed. "Comfy?"

"Very," I said. Despite the fact that I said I would just lay here and call at ten, I let Jack's heartbeat lull me to sleep once again.

Jack

Spot look exhausted, I felt terrible, there was nothing I could do. He fell asleep almost instantly when I laid down with him. He looks like an angel when he's asleep, not like he doesn't all the time, but right now he just looks so lost. It was sad when he told me he felt invisible at school, I just want him to feel important, loved, anything. He needs to know that someone cares about what happens to him. I don't want to know what he was talking about earlier, all I know it wasn't good. So I had to make him stop thinking, which I enjoyed doing.

Mom came in a few minutes later and saw him laying by me. "How's he doing?" She asked. I love my mom, she would never question me even when she finds me wrapped up in the arms of another guy.

"I think it finally hit him, he's basically cried himself to sleep," I said, leaving out the other part of our morning. I ran my fingers through his silky hair. "I feel terrible. This shouldn't happen to him. He's a great guy, but he doesn't think he is."

Mom sat next to me on my bed and looked at Spot. "He's adorable," she said, pulling a blanket over us. "He needs to hear you say that. It'll do him some good."

I nodded. "Mom," I started, not real sure how to put this. I hadn't even admitted it to myself yet. "You'd love me no matter what, right?"

She smiled at me. "I know where this is going. And yes, I love you."

"I think I'm bisexual," I said quietly. "I noticed it a while ago but I think I'm coming to terms with it now."

She nodded and gave me a hug. "I thought so. Your eyes lit up when you saw him here last night. Just be careful, I don't want you to have to chose between him and anything else in your life," she said to me. Moms are very wise people; I just hope she isn't right this time. "He needs to be up in time so he can make that call, can you wake him up, or do you want me to come back in at ten?"

"Can you come back at ten? I might go back to sleep for awhile."

She nodded and gave me another hug, got up off my bed and left. I sighed, that hadn't gone too bad. Spot shifted slightly next to me and I couldn't help but smile. He looks so adorable laying next to me,_ he looks so innocent._

I laid next to the sleeping boy for the next hour until he began to wake once again. He looked up at me with those baby blues and he rolled over so he was on his back, laying next to me. "Good morning," I said to him as I rolled onto my side so I could see him.

"Good morning yourself," he said. I leaned over so my arms were supported on either side of his thin frame, supporting myself over top of him. He raised an eyebrow in question to my sudden movement.

"I told my mom I'm bisexual," I said, leaning closer to the boy under me.

"Really?" He asked, looking genuinely surprised.

"Really," I responded, giving him a quick kiss. He looked surprised again, like he had forgotten that this wasn't the first time I had kissed him.

"Well then."

He pulled me down by the shoulders and I fell on top of him. I was worried that I had knocked the wind out of him, but all fear was gone when he pulled me by my hair down to meet his lips again. I smiled against his lips as we began to play a rather intense game of tonsil hockey. _Where did he learn to kiss like this? _My entire body felt as if it was on fire as his hands began to wander down my back and chest; they seemed to be everywhere at once.

When we broke apart for air I looked down at him, his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavy. "You okay?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.

He opened his eyes slowly and allowed his breathing to return to normal before he answered. "More than okay," he whispered, his voice lower than usual. He raised his hips off the bed and I could tell just how 'okay' he was. I bit back a moan and leaned over for another kiss, this one he was ready for.

I don't know how long we laid on my bed, Spot laying half on top of me again, before my mom came back in to tell Spot that he needed to call Children's Services. He groaned and got up off the bed. I instantly felt the difference, not only was my blanket gone, but there was an energy missing from the room.

_Where have you been all my life?_

Spot came back ten minutes later, an annoyed look on his face. "They want me to move back to Brooklyn to live with my aunt. This is bullshit. I finally fit in here and they're making me leave!" Spot was pacing back and forth in front of my bed, giving me a nice view of his entire body (even if he was, unfortunately, fully clothed) but I felt an immediate flare of emotion at his statement.

"The hell you're moving back," I said, standing up as well and moving towards him.

"There's nothing we can do, I've got no other family close, except my brother, who know's where he is from day to day," Spot said, sounding exasperated.

"They don't need to know he's never there, all he has to do is give you a place to 'live' until you turn eighteen," I said, trying my damned hardest to find a loop-hole. Spot stopped pacing, a smirk on his gorgeous face.

"Perfect," he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'll call them back right now, after I call Sean that is." It only took me a few seconds to think who Sean could be before it hit me; his brother. He left the room to use the phone again.

It was the longest twenty minutes of my life. I had no idea if the service people would even let Spot stay with his obviously irresponsible older brother. I didn't like not knowing what was going on, and right now I wanted answers.

Spot walked back into my room and right before I could ask him how it went, he was in my arms, hugging me tightly.

_How did this all happen so fast? _

"I can stay! I called Sean and he said he'd let me stay with him until I turn eighteen!" he sounded so happy, his face was glowing and his blue eyes were sparkling. I picked him up and spun him around once before setting him back on the floor.

His happy mood didn't last long as he sat down on the bed once again. "The funeral is in four days," he said quietly. My shoulders slumped as I remembered exactly _why_ Spot was looking for a place to stay.

"We need to go out somewhere, get away from all this," he thought out loud. "Ask your mom if I can take you to Brooklyn for the day." I looked up at him, Brooklyn was a three hour drive at least.

"What about the weekend, we could stay somewhere. You can't spend a month in Brooklyn overnight. It takes two days," I said, smiling slightly. "Go over and pack a few things and I'll see you in a few minutes. My mom's probably cool with it, she's pretty lenient on weekends," I told him.

He got up and I led him out of my room and to the door. I gave him a quick kiss and shooed him out the door. He ran across my yard, did a cartwheel and then walked across his own yard. I grinned, he was pretty limber – and here my thoughts became rated X. I'm not thinking about all the kinky sex positions we could do because of him being that flexible – no...not at all.

"Hey mom," I began as I walked into the living room. "Do you think it's okay if Spot and I go to Brooklyn for the weekend? He wants to show me where he grew up." _And ravish his body in a small hotel room -hopefully._

She looked at me, apparently thinking before she answered. "I don't see why not, you two be safe and call me when you get there. Do you need any money?" Leave it to mom to think of everything.

"Maybe a bit, I've my credit card for the hotel room, if that's okay," she nodded. "So I just need some spending money." She nodded again and I followed her to her room. She took a pickle jar off her dresser (my mom's a little weird) and pulled out a handful of bills. I counted it out, there was $220 in my hand.

"Is that enough?" She asked, looking at me.

"Definitely," I said, hugging her and heading to my room to pack some clothes. After throwing a couple shirts and jeans into my gym bag, I gave my mom another hug and headed over to Spot's.

I knocked on the door and Spot opened it after a few seconds. His bag was by his feet and he was putting his wallet in his back pocket as he walked out the door. "Can you get us there from here?" I asked, the question sounded stupid to me.

"Sure, I can," he said, allowing his Brooklyn accent to slip back in. "Come on," he grabbed my hand and pulled me to his car. "We'll be there by 2:30 if we don't stop anywhere for too long."

I grinned as I got into the passenger seat of his car. He needed to get away for a while and forget about all this shit that was happening to him right now. We pulled out of his driveway and onto the street for my first road trip without my mom.

A/N: So I'm a complete liar when I said I'd have a chapter a week, it was a little _too _ambitious for me. So... hopefully I'll have one up every two weeks. Keep checking and review – I like those.


	4. Chapter 4 part 1

Dislcaimer: see previous chapters

Warning: Contains some mild slash, if you don't like it, don't read it. All flames will be used to cook marshmallows with so I can make smores.

Note:I'm going to change from Spots POV to Jacks POV throughout this so don't get too confuzzled.. _ Italicized_ words indicate thought.

Apology: Yeah, I'm a big fat liar. But it's my senior year and I've got a lot of stuff to do and now that my term paper (the spawn of Satan) is done I'll actually be able to concentrate on this story again. Until my senior project comes nearer to do but I promise I'll actually start writing again.

Chapter 4

Spot

It was warm for a September day so when I pulled into the nearest BP, I put the top down on my car before I got gas. Jack grinned as the top folded in the back of the car, allowing the light breeze to ruffle his hair.

I filled the gas tank and got my wallet out. "Are you coming in?" I asked Jack as I walked towards the building.

He shrugged before answering. "Sure," got out of the car and followed me to go pay.

We both made our way to the drinks before going to pay. My eyes widened slightly when I saw that they had JOLT, _this will make for an interesting trip, _I thought as I grabbed a JOLT COLA out and waited for Jack to make his pick before heading for the check-out.

Jack reached into his pocket, but I slapped his had away. "I've got it, you're fine," I told him, handing the guy behind the counter my money. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "What?" I asked him as we walked out.

"I can help out now and then with money right?"

"Yeah, but there was no need to then, I had enough with the thirty dollars I gave him," I said, opening the plastic seal around the can of caffeine goodness.

"The next time we stop, I'm buying, I don't care what it -" he stopped upon hearing the 'pop' that my JOLT gave off when I opened it. He looked around before his eyes settled on the drink in my hand, it even looked like it was smoking. "What _is_ that stuff?" He asked, looking at me strangely.

"JOLT," I answered him. "It's twice the caffeine and two times the sugar of regular soda or something like that."

He shuddered as I told him about the drink in my hand. "Can I try it?" He asked, I could tell he wanted to see for himself just what this strange stuff was.

I handed the can to him and got in the car and started it. "Holy shit," he said as he handed it back to me. "That shit is _fucked," _

I just nodded at his choice in words and took another drink.

"Save some of that for later," he said as he walked by me and to the passenger side door. Needless to say I was curious as to what he had in mind that would need me to have a lot of energy.

We pulled out of the BP and drove on the turnpike until I saw the exit for New York City. It had been nearly three hours and I was starting to get a little stir crazy. "This is the part that takes forever," I told him as we went in the tunnel under the Hudson River.

Jack looked like a little kid at Christmas as we drove through Manhattan and then into Brooklyn via the Brooklyn Bridge. I don't want to brag, but when I lived here, I _owned_ that bridge. We stopped at a Motel 8, neither one of us caring much about the luxury of a Crown Plaza Hotel, we were content with just having a free breakfast.

I parked close to the front door and the two of us made our way into the lobby, the kid at the desk looked familiar, but I couldn't put a name to his face. "We'd like a room," I said as I walked up to the desk.

He looked up and began typing at the computer. "How many nights?" he asked. I looked over at Jack who raised two fingers.

"Two," I told him, beginning to get my wallet out of my pocket before Jack hit my shoulder.

"I said I'd pay for whatever we got next," he said, gently laying a hand on my shoulder where he had hit me.

I gave him a look but let him, I decided to pay him back later, whether he wanted me to or not.

"Name?" the kid said. I looked at his bronze colored name tag and saw the name Damien. I went to school with a Damien, he was one of my old friends.

"Damien?" I asked, looking at him.

"No, that's _my _name," he said, looking at me like I was an idiot.

"No shit, dumbfuck," I said, giving him my trademark smirk. "I'll soak ya' if ya' look at me like dat again," I could slip back into my Brooklyn accent so easily when I wanted to.

Damien looked at me for a few seconds before I saw the realization flash across his face. "Gabe?" he asked quietly. "Is it seriously you?"

I nodded.

"Dude, what happened? You look like a girl," he said, grinning at me. I knew he was joking, but I had to look down and make sure I suddenly hadn't grown boobs.

"No I don't," I said, pouting.

"Man, you're wearing eyeliner and you're, if possible, skinnier than you were when you lived down the hall."

I glared at him, but I knew he had caught me there, I _had_ gotten skinnier and I was wearing eyeliner. Hey, it's a habit, I cheer for Christ sakes. "Can we just get the room?" I asked, trying to steer him away from the subject of me.

Jack, in the meantime, seemed to think this was all quite funny and decides at this time to humiliate me. "You know," Jack said to Damien. "He's a cheerleader now." _That's it, he's definitely not getting any! _

"No shit?" Damien asked. "You're a cross-dresser too?"  
"Remind me to cut your dick off later," I told Jack. "No, I don't wear a skirt, I get to wear pants," I muttered, glaring daggers into Jack's back.

Damien laughed. "So, who's name am I putting this under?"

"Mine," Jack said. "Sullivan, Francis Sullivan," he told him sliding his credit card towards Damien. He's lucky, I'm not old enough to get a credit card yet. I don't turn 18 for another three weeks. Actually, my birthday is the same day as our Homecoming game.

Damien nodded, typing something on the computer again and handed Jack his credit card back a few minutes later. "Here you go. And this is the key to your room. Unfortunately, the only room we have available right only has one King sized bed. Is that okay?"

We both shrugged nonchalantly and Jack took the key from Damien before we both headed off to our room. I waved at him and nodded, following Jack to our room.

Once we were far enough away from the front desk I turned to Jack. "Do you think he did it on purpose? Giving us a room with only one bed? I don't believe the bullshit about only having one room available," I said as we arrived at our room.

"You're paranoid," he told me, tossing his bag on the table in our room. I set mine next to his and looked at him.

"I am not."

"Are too," he said, slowly making his way towards me. I didn't bother to back away, I didn't feel like playing hard to get, I was already hard enough.

"Maybe I am," I whispered. Jack was now no more than a few centimeters in front of me, our noses almost touching. He grinned at me and picked me up and threw me on the bed. And when I said threw, I mean it I had just been man handled by Jack. Not that I'm complaining.

Jack

Spot was lying on the bed, flat on his back and he had never looked more delicious than right now. He got up onto his elbows and raised one hand in a 'come hither' motion. I obeyed immediately, not wanting my sexy boyfriend to wait any longer than necessary.

I climbed onto the bed next to him and stretched out on my side so I was facing him. "I don't care if you _are _ a cross-dresser, you're hot," I said, wondering what he would say in retaliation.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Guess what."

"What?" I asked. He just shook his head and leaned in closer to my ear.

"You're not getting any," he whispered, gently taking my earlobe between his teeth.

"What?" I asked again, my eyes wide. He didn't just say what I think he just said. Did he?

"You heard me," he said, getting up off the bed. "I would have forgiven you for telling Damien about me being a cheerleader, but you called me a cross-dresser. That can not be forgiven so easily," he said, looking at himself in the mirror and frowning.

He grabbed his bag and pulled out a pencil, I found this quite odd until I realized that it was eyeliner and not an actual writing pencil. He stopped and looked at himself again and sighed.

I got up and walked over to him. "You look fine," I told him, rubbing his shoulders.

He just shook his head and ran his hand through his two-toned hair. "Yeah, right," he said, leaning back into me.

"You do," I reassured him. "You look great." He just looked into our reflection, I could tell he was looking at himself then to me and back again.

"No," he said, leaning back into my arms. "You do. But I still look like a twelve year old girl."

I tried hard not to laugh at the absurdity of that statement, but failed miserably. "Don't make me feel like a pedophile, please," I told him, hugging him tighter to me. "You're a sexy, seventeen year old guy."

He smiled and turned around so he could look me in the eye. He tilted his head up and wrapped his arms around my neck. "Am I really sexy?" he asked shyly, tensing in my grip until I assured him that he was indeed sexy.

"Well," I said, kissing him on the top of his two-toned head. "Are you going to show me around New York City or not?" I asked, breaking through the sexual tension that had fallen over us in the last five minutes. He nodded, grabbed the room key, his wallet and my hand before heading towards the door. As soon as we had entered the lobby he let go of my hand, much to my dismay. "What was that for?" I asked him as soon as we had gotten out onto the street.

"I didn't want to get jumped," he told me, eyes searching for something on the road signs. "My friends are kind of homophobic."

We walked down the street for a while, getting pushed around by a few thousand people before Spot stopped and turned down a narrower, less crowded street, for which I was thankful of. I was born in New York and live there now but it's so much less crowded where I live that going to the biggest city in this part of the United States is a little shock to my system.

He stopped after going down past a few buildings, stopping in front of a large apartment complex. "This is where I used to live then my dad got a better job so we moved next door to you and I've been there, invisible, for the past four years," he said, gesturing towards the building.

"You weren't invisible," I told him, putting a hand on his shoulder before remembering that his friends wouldn't like it and removed it.

"Well, no. I guess you're right. You can't beat the living fuck out of someone whom you can't see," he said scathingly.

I flinched. I had never taken part when some of my friends would beat up the "freaks" as they called the people they weren't friends with. I remembered back in eighth grade when he moved here, they actually gave him a bloody nose and broke a few of his fingers and a rib. They really did a number on him. They had also not been suspended, just given a weeks detention.

I could tell that Spot was thinking about the same thing as me because his hand, the one they broke fingers on, went to his chest and traced the rib that had been broken. "I'm sorry about what they did to you," I told him, trying to offer comfort without touching him.

"It's not your fault," he said vacantly. "It's mine."

I looked directly into his eyes after tilting his face up so that he was forced to look at me. "It's NOT your fault. I repeat, _not your fault_."

He laughed and his eyes turned cold. The look on his face scared me, there was no warmth in his eyes, and his laugh sounded hollow. It was not a look I wanted to see ever again. "I'll never let that happen again. Do you hear me? You're safe with me."

"Until they make you choose," Spot said, but his expression softened slightly and he leaned into my touch. I hoped to God that he was wrong and that no one would have to make me choose between him and anything else.

Okay, this chapter is going to be split up into two parts, the other should be up within the next week. Key word: should. But I'll try my hardest to get the second half up AQAP.


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